


Game Start

by Supersteffy



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cock Tease, Floor Sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supersteffy/pseuds/Supersteffy
Summary: All Bakura wants to do is play his game, but Marik decides he'd rather play with Bakura instead. Thiefshipping One-shot lemon.





	Game Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChaosRocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRocket/gifts).



> A very, very belated happy birthday to ChaosRocket! Thanks for being so patient with me! :) And thanks to Sita Bethel for Beta'ing!
> 
> This was inspired by a conversation about one of girahimu-sama's drawings where Marik kisses Bakura to distract him from his game--and somehow there was talk of Marik ramming Bakura while he played Mario. ChaosRocket requested it become a fic so...this is the result of that. Not exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it!
> 
> This is the picture:
> 
> http://ryo-creampuff-bakura.tumblr.com/post/158895674747/dmbakura-when-ur-bf-wont-give-you-the-fuckdamn

_ “Do-do, do, do-do, do--DO! Deet, doot, do! Do-do-do-doot...” _

“For fuck’s sake, Marik! Will you  _ please _ stop imitating the music?!”

Chuckling from behind Bakura, Marik stretched out languidly, as if the La-Z-Boy he was draped across were a chaise. He’d been watching Bakura play Super Mario Bros. for going-on two hours, and even though Bakura didn’t seem to ever tire of the tedious game, Marik had. So he’d decided to play his own game, and see how many buttons he had to push before Bakura would rage quit.

“You’ve been playing the same five levels for ages. Doesn’t that get irritating?”

“The only thing I find irritating right now is you,” Bakura grumbled as he made Mario slide down a pipe. He leaned back, using the couch’s seat like a backrest. “I wouldn’t have to keep starting over if you weren’t distracting me and making me die constantly.”

Marik sat quiet for about a minute.

“That mushroom guy almost got you,” he observed drolly.

“It’s called a Goomba--and I’ve got this.”

“Watch out for that flow--nevermind,” he cut off when Bakura got hit. “Now you’re small again. I tried to warn you.”

Bakura growled and took out a Koopa.

“You know, as much as I  _ love _ singing this obnoxious music over and over to piss you off, maybe you could play something more interesting? Like Skyrim! That’s a good game.”

“Because I want something with more of a challenge.”

“Then why not play that Dark Souls game? That one looked hard.”

“Because I’m playing  _ this _ game. Now shut up!”

Marik heaved a dramatic sigh and slouched, his fingers drumming against his leg. He considered giving up and finding something else to do, but he didn’t want Bakura thinking he’d won. Then he got an idea.

Marik reached out and tugged playfully at a lock of Bakura’s hair. Bakura swatted him off, so he did it again. And again. After the fourth time, Marik smirked and Bakura growled as the familiar death music played.

Bakura slammed his Wii controller to the carpet and twisted around to glare up at Marik from the floor in front of the sofa. “Alright, what the fuck is your deal?”

“I’m bored. Bugging you is entertaining.”

“Then go find something to do!” Bakura picked his controller back up and scooted closer to the screen.

Marik pursed his lips at the distance and lowered himself to the floor behind Bakura. He leaned chest-to-back against Bakura and rested his chin on Bakura’s shoulder. His fingers trailed lightly up and down Bakura’s exposed arms. Bakura showed no outward reaction to the contact, but Marik grinned when he felt Bakura’s skin break out in gooseflesh.

Following up his advantage, Marik moved Bakura’s hair and kissed lightly along his exposed neck and behind his ear. Bakura’s breathing quickened, but his eyes were still glued to the stupid television screen.

Marik continued the light caresses and kisses for a while before gradually escalating to occasional nips and licks, his hands toying with Bakura’s chest and along his beltline. He heard Bakura’s breath hitch when Marik briefly brushed over his tenting zipper. The death music sounded again.

“You fell down a hole,” Marik mouthed against the shell of his ear.

“Uh-huh.” Bakura continued to play when the level restarted, but he was showing far less aptitude than before.

Marik continued to lavish kisses and licks along Bakura’s hairline where he knew Bakura was sensitive. Marik worked his hands along Bakura’s thighs, his thumbs massaging small circles close to his groin. A small moan floated back to him over the game’s looping theme.

Marik noticed the tiny Mario stood still on the screen now, the controller hanging slack in Bakura’s grip.

“Do you want me to leave you alone so you can play your game?” Marik asked, one hand snaking up Bakura’s shirt to toy with his nipples while the other groped his growing erection through his jeans.

Bakura panted and hit the pause button. “No.”

A victorious grin spread across Marik’s face. He pulled away and stood to his feet.

“Wha--? Where the hell are you going?” Bakura demanded.

Turning back, Marik said, “You wouldn’t give me attention when I wanted it. Why should I give you any now that you do?”

Bakura growled and narrowed his eyes at Marik’s back as he strolled away. “Fine! Whatever,” he grumbled. He adjusted his erection and returned to his game, but he was too irritated now to play anymore.

_ Fucking prick, _ he thought, switching to the 360 and popping in Soulcalibur V. He suddenly had the urge to beat the fuck out of something.

Marik noticed the change in game music, but waited a few minutes before returning to the couch with a glass of ice water in hand. Bakura glanced at him from his peripheral vision before deciding to ignore him again.

Marik commenced commenting every time Bakura messed up, all the while sipping leisurely at his drink.

“That guy’s going to win if you keep playing like that.”

“I can play the damn game fine without your commentary.”

“Obviously not,” Marik remarked as Bakura's custom Thief King character was thrown out of the ring.

Getting an idea, Marik took one of the larger pieces of ice from his drink and dropped it down the back of Bakura’s shirt.

“Fuck!  _ Goddamnit _ , Marik!”

Marik started laughing as Bakura dropped the controller to pull at his shirt. TheThief King stood like a dupe on the screen while Patroklos beat him soundly.

“Alright, that’s it!” Bakura grabbed Marik’s ankle and pulled him onto the floor beside him. Marik dropped his drink to break his fall; water and ice went flying as the glass rolled unbroken across the carpet.

“Ouch! That hurt you assho--”

Bakura’s mouth smothered the insult as he straddled Marik and pinned him back against the couch’s seat. He ground their pelvises together and groaned into the kiss.

“Are you bored now?” he panted when they broke for breath.

“Well…” Marik hedged, smirking, “we could make it a bit more interesting.”

“How so?”

Marik leaned forward to nip Bakura’s bottom lip. “Lay on your stomach and pick the controller back up.”

Bakura stopped grinding. “What? Why?”

“I want to see how far you can get in the game while I'm fucking you.”

Bakura leveled an incredulous look at Marik. “Are you fucking serious?”

Marik pulled Bakura's shirt over his head and kissed along his bared collarbone. “Mmm, yes.”

“Why can't you ever want normal foreplay like everyone else?” Bakura groused, but he grabbed the controller before laying down. Marik ran to the bedroom, returning in short order with their bottle of lube.

Marik didn’t waste time losing his clothes, flinging them to the side to worry about later. Then he straddled Bakura’s legs. Bakura hitched up so Marik could undo his belt, which also got tossed aside. Marik unfastened Bakura’s pants, but didn’t remove them yet, his hands trailing over Bakura’s stomach and chest as he kissed along his spine.

Bakura tried to focus on the characters beating each other up on the screen, but most of his attention was diverted to the feel of Marik’s skin against his, and Marik’s musky scent mixing with his own. Marik always smelled spicy, like incense, and Bakura found it hard to breathe as the smell surrounded him.

“Get to the boss at the end.”

“That’s going to be difficult if you keep--ah!” Bakura cut off as Marik’s hand snaked down his pants to stroke fully at his mostly erect cock. Bakura paused the game momentarily until he adjusted to the touch enough to resume. “Like I said, that’s going to be difficult.”

Marik chuckled, running the fingers of his other hand through Bakura’s long, unruly white hair and biting the back of his neck lightly. Bakura groaned.

“Gods, this was a stupid idea,” Bakura muttered. He won the first round handily enough, but struggled in the second, narrowly avoiding a Ring Out.

Marik sucked on the juncture where Bakura's neck met his shoulder, and Bakura had to pause again.

“I’m not going to last very long at this rate,” Bakura confessed. One hand deserted the controller, it's fingers digging into the carpet as Marik’s hand sped up a touch.

“You mean in the game or real life?”

“Both.” The hand slowed down to a torturous pace before pulling away entirely, and Bakura bit back a whimper.

“Remove your pants and finish this fight.”

Bakura rushed to obey, no longer invested in the game on the screen, but eager for Marik to take his own game to the next level.

Marik coated his fingers in lube while Bakura removed his pants and settled back down with the controller. Bakura finished the match, and Marik rewarded him by spreading his ass and circling one slick digit over Bakura’s anus.

Bakura huffed air and spread his legs, begging without words for Marik to press inside.

“Beat this Harley Quinn wannabe and I’ll finger fuck you,” Marik crooned.

“And if I can’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll just keep teasing you until you do.”

Bakura groaned, knowing Marik was fully capable of holding to that promise.

There was no finesse to the way Bakura played, no carefully timed combos or thoroughly planned strategy. Bakura gritted his teeth and mashed buttons, his groin tingling as the pad of Marik’s finger swirled, but never penetrated.

“ _ Fuck _ !” Bakura swore as he lost the second battle. He glared at the screen, as if it were the game’s fault Marik was such a tease.

“That wasn’t good. Lose one more and you’ll have to start over.” Marik smacked Bakura’s ass with his other hand. Bakura growled over his shoulder.

“You think you could do better?”

Marik shrugged even though Bakura couldn’t see it. He grinned as Bakura threw Tira off the edge of the stage. “Very nice,” he purred. Pouring more lube on his fingers, he slipped one inside Bakura.

Bakura hissed in relief and anticipation as Marik entered him. The game was paused again as he just let himself enjoy the feeling.

“Keep playing, Bakura,” Marik warned, adding a second digit.

“I don’t think I can,” Bakura whispered. Then Marik found his prostate and he  _ knew _ he couldn’t, his eyes closing as he moaned Marik’s name. “Please, I just want to enjoy this.”

“You should have thought of that when you ignored me earlier.”

“ _ Gods _ , Marik! I swear, if you stop touching me now, I’m finding a new lover.”

Marik chuckled and nuzzled Bakura’s neck.

“No one else will make you feel the way I do, and you know it. But the fact that you’re still able to talk this much means you’re not desperate enough yet.”

Marik added a third finger and pumped faster. He rolled Bakura’s balls carefully in the other hand and Bakura made high-pitched, breathy sounds against the carpet.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” Bakura hissed, cheek pressed to the floor. “Marik,  _ please _ .”

Jolts of pleasure shot up his shaft with every angled thrust of Marik’s fingers. Bakura could feel himself leaking.

“Then I guess you'd better keep playing.”

Marik removed his digits, and Bakura panted, shaking with the need to come. He had half a mind to end it now and jerk himself off, but he wanted Marik to bring him over that edge. He wanted to be filled and to feel Marik's skin sliding against his own.

“Bakura. Keep playing.” Marik petted Bakura's thighs and ass, calming him. “Make it to the end. I promise I'll make it worth it.”

Bakura groaned and unpaused the game. He won the next match up, although if asked, he couldn't have said how. He was playing on auto-pilot, his mind focused on the tingling in his shaft, the ache in his balls.

Marik was painting a mural on his back with his tongue, and the wet, tickling sensations were only serving to distract him further. His hands kept busy stimulating Bakura's various erogenous zones: tweaking nipples, massaging his groin, and teasing the backs of his knees and thighs.

Marik pulled back when Bakura got to the final opponent before the Boss. Grabbing the lube again, he anointed his erection and stroked himself while Bakura finished the fight. As the cutscene started up, Marik wrapped one arm under Bakura's torso and  stroked his chest. Holding himself with his other hand, he rubbed the tip against Bakura's entrance. Bakura let out a whimper and pushed back until the tip pressed just inside.

Marik smirked against Bakura's hair. “Are you ready?”

“Yes! Gods, Marik,  _ please _ .”

Marik hadn't told him to stop playing, so Bakura continued to mash buttons blindly, but the moment Marik pushed in, Bakura reflexively paused and dropped the controller, his nails digging into Berber.

“ _ Ah-ahh _ ! Yes…”

Marik sighed as they both adjusted. He never tired of the feel of Bakura beneath him, beside him, straddling him. The warmth encircling him had his body pleading for him to move, quick and hard, but he took a moment to just enjoy the connection, the intimacy. Then he pulled out and sat back.

Bakura looked back at Marik over his shoulder. “Marik…?”

“Up on your hands and knees,” Marik instructed. “I don't think you want rug burn on your dick.”

“Right.” Bakura repositioned.

Lining up once more, Marik glided in on a hard thrust. Bakura tossed his head back, gasping as Marik drove deep.

“ _ Ga-hnn _ ! More! Please, Marik. Please,  _ please _ don't stop. Faster.”

“Don't--worry,” Marik grunted, fingers digging into Bakura's slim, pale hips as he sped up. “I--won't--stop.”

Bakura's arms shook and sweat glazed his forehead as he fought to hold himself up. The building pleasure in his gut only made his arms more unsteady. With a groan, he let his arms drop to the floor, his head resting against his forearm like some form of erotic yoga.

The new angle caused both men to call out, and suddenly they were both on the edge.

“O-oh  _ gods _ ! Marik, touch me. Touch me,  _ please _ . I want to come so badly!”

Marik’s rhythm faltered as he reached one hand around to stroke Bakura. All finesse was gone, replaced with desperation as Marik fought to hold back long enough for Bakura to finish.

Bakura swore in an unintelligible mishmash of Japanese, Middle Egyptian, and Marik's name. Warm semen coated his chest and stomach, and dripped down Marik's fist.

Bakura clenched around Marik as his orgasm took him. Marik blindly groped for Bakura's hand. He squeezed their fingers and moaned against Bakura’s back as he succumbed to his own release.

They panted in a messy heap on the floor, their sweat cooling as the minutes passed.

“Marik.”

“Yeah, Bakura?”

Bakura swallowed. His mouth was parched. “I think we need to clean the carpet.”

Marik snorted a laugh and snuggled deeper into Bakura’s hair, inhaling the scent of their coconut conditioner.

“So, did you enjoy my game?”

“You're an entitled little brat. I can't believe I let you talk me into this shit.”

“That didn't answer my question.”

Bakura rolled out from under Marik so they could lay side-by-side. He circled one arm around Marik's waist and pulled him close. Tracing his thumb over the smear that had been a pristine khol marking mere minutes ago, Bakura grinned.

“It could have been worse.”

Marik flicked his chest before nuzzling into it, his arm hugging Bakura in return.

“So…” Marik said after they’d been silent a while.

“So…” Bakura parroted.

“You planning on going back to your video games now?”

Bakura stroked a hand over Marik’s back. “Actually, I was thinking we could catch up on Game of Thrones.”

Marik lifted his head and grinned. “You want to make popcorn while I clean up your mess?”

“Deal.” Bakura stole a quick kiss before extricating himself from Marik. He donned his boxers and headed toward the kitchen.

A few minutes later salt and butter scented the air. Bakura could just make out the sound of Marik humming as the first few kernel began to pop, and he grinned, recognizing the Mario Bros. Theme music.


End file.
